


Five More Minutes

by ryu-no-hakai (PrincessNiallxHoran)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, heck, lovewatch secret santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessNiallxHoran/pseuds/ryu-no-hakai
Summary: When Gabriel and Jesse get caught in one hell of a storm, it takes Reyes all he's got not to strangle the little bastard. But it's pretty alright, he supposes, so long as Jesse keeps mostly to himself.





	Five More Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cole in the Stockings](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cole+in+the+Stockings).



> Pre-relationship fluff piece for Cole of Lovewatch. <3 I'm not superb at fluff, but the idea was just adorable. I hope you like it!

“We wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess if you’d just gotten here with the pick up on time, Pendejo!” Reyes was in a particularly foul mood where he was standing, soaked shoulders hunched and arms crossed in a desperate attempt to stay warm as he glared through the shuddering, thin holo window. It was trying to hold up -- in fact the fact that it was still running was startling in and of itself. After all, the little place they were crashing in looked like it had been abandoned some time ago, meaning whatever power source the people had had was beyond standard grade. Outside the wind was whipping about wildly, and swirling bursts of snow almost completely blotted out the trees and foliage that stood only a few yards away.

“How was I s’posed to know this storm was comin’!” Jesse’s voice was shaky, teeth chattering intermittently as he stroked a pathetic fire in the abandoned fireplace. All they had to work with was the remnants of the last fire. At least the little bastard had gone out to get a few sticks and logs from the outdoors to dry off for later -- if he could even get the damned thing to start. “Hijo de  _ puta! _ ”  **_Son of a bitch!_ **

“Watch your tongue!” He was cold and agitated; he had very,  _ very _ little patience for this sort of shit -- despite how there was no venom dripping from his lips. Reyes let out a slow, calming sigh and took his eyes from the storm outside to take a look at how far his little prodigy had come and couldn’t help the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose until it inevitably bled. The kid’s hands were trembling from the cold, too unsteady to hold the lighter still to ignite the tinder, and the fact that he felt empathy for him bothered him more than anything. Maybe he was being a little hard on the bastard.

He approached, boots squishing with the melting snow as he unzipped his jacket, shedding it with relative concern onto the shabby couch that sat before the fireplace. Reyes carefully knelt before the pitiful fireplace, taking the lighter from Jesse’s hand and hovering it carefully over the pathetic starter they had. With a steady hand he birthed embers; with a steady stream of air from his mouth he breathed fire. After a few minutes of this give and take he’d blossomed a modest glow of flames that licked for any source of dry surface they could find. He was startled out of his focus by McCree shedding his own wet jacket to the floor and fumbling around in the various cabinets for something unknown.

“Jesse -,”

“Look, Jefe. We already broke in and no one’s been here in a coon’s age. Ain’t no harm done in seein’ what they left behind.” Jesse didn’t even turn to confront his boss as he spoke, digging through the various shelves and cabinets until he came across something of his liking. He withdrew a large quilt, albeit moth bitten and well worn, and threw it to the couch beside Reyes’ jacket. The smug bastard turned to look Reyes, who was still knelt on the ground by the modest fire, and grinned.

“Either fish or cut the bait, Cap.”

Shortly thereafter he scuttled off into the next room. Judging by the dusty appliances that Gabriel could see, he assumed it was a laundry room. Maybe a pantry? The man sighed heavily and stood, dusting off his knees. The chill was beginning to set in, even with the fire fresh at his side. The slick had soaked through his jacket and into the black turtleneck he wore, rendering it absolutely worthless in holding his body heat. There were a few clanks and clunks in the room Jesse had disappeared into, and then a thud followed by rapid cursing.

“I guess you can take the boy out of Deadlock, but you can’t take Deadlock out of the boy.” His tone was amused, but regardless he was seconds away from checking on McCree before the son of a bitch in question rounded the corner with an armful of pantry foods -- bags of dried snacks, canned goods, and even a few bottles of beer.

“Well, ya know what they say, commander. Every dog’s gotta have a few fleas. Deadlock’s mine. What’s yers? That temper? Or do ya got somethin’ darker lurkin’ in there?” His tone was stupidly playful as per usual, and Reyes was torn between threatening his next week’s meals or laughing alongside him. Considering how poorly their day had already been, he opted for the latter.

“Too dark to share, Mijo.”

“Well ain’t that reassurin’.”

Jesse dumped the snacks he found onto the couch and then moved the coat to the armrest, instead working at the buttons of his shirt. Made enough sense to Reyes. If they didn’t get this chilled, wet clothing off they were going to end up with hypothermia at worst and a sinus infection at best. He tucked his fingers into the damp hem of the sweater and tugged it up over his head, resting the item near the warmth of the fire before addressing a few of the thinner sticks that had been collected prior and were drying with each passing minute. He found a few that were dry enough to risk tossing in and did as such, nodding in satisfaction as they crackled and thrummed, being ever consumed by the neediness of the flame.

“Whoo-whee. So, commander,” the leisure ebb of McCree’s tone instantly set Gabe’s shoulders into firm, defined ridges, “you been workin’ out?”

There was a brief pause before Jesse was grinning where he’d moved to sit on the couch, knees wide and lips stretched thin and predatory, clearly proud of his shitty humor. For a moment, the commander really didn’t know how to respond but he was clearly expected to, if his agent’s shit eating grin was anything to go off of. It wasn’t as though he was unused to Jesse’s easy flirting, but he supposed he was just a little surprised that it followed so soon after the bad attitude he’d had since getting stuck in this long forgotten shack in bum fuck Egypt. Though, yet again, it  _ was _ Jesse McCree, and it seemed that the way he liked to break the ice was by shattering it into as many small pieces as possible. Worst part of that was that it tended to work.

“Quit, actually. Against my religion.”

“Ah, yeah? And which religion would that be?”

“The one that kicks peoples’ asses when they don’t shut up.”

“I’ll mark that down as one I will not be attendin’ then. I’d have my ass handed to me more times than I have up till this point.”

A long silence fell over them; something comfortable and relaxed before Reyes took a seat next to Jesse. There was something unspoken here -- an agreement of logic that there needed to be skin to skin contact to gather body heat more effectively. Gabriel lifted his arm, wrapping it about the younger’s shoulders and gathering him close.  _ Christ _ the kid was cold. --  _ Kid _ . Little bastard hadn’t been a kid for a solid five years at the  _ least _ . Could have had him fooled with the dumb shit that spilled from his mouth every now and again, but it didn’t really matter. Jesse moved to toss the blanket out over them, taking care to reach across the expanse of Reyes’ chest to tuck the corner behind a thick, corded shoulder.

Between them, Gabriel heard the pop of a bag being opened and the rustling of his agent fishing around in a chip bag he’d found in the kitchen not twenty minutes prior.

“Hate to break it to you,  _ mijo _ , but we don’t really have a way to get you to the hospital when this shit curdles in your guts.” He was met with a short laugh, a hand peeking up by their necks to shove a chip past his lips.

“Hate to break it to  _ you _ , Padre. There ain’t no savin’ this trainwreck.”

//

When he woke up a few hours later in the dimly lit hours of twilight, it was to the sound of heavy thumps against the roof of the decrepit little house. Reyes was the first to blink his eyes open, staring pensively to the window. The snow that had plagued them the night before had dissipated, leaving a clear view of the winter wonderland through the holo window that no longer struggled to stay fully formed. Outside, heavy wet bundles of snow dropped from the branches and plopped into the pillowy white embrace below. Must have been what was hitting the roof. Beside them the fire was still crackling -- they must not have been passed out too long -- but it was growing close to the end. Jesse stirred against his side, tucked under his arm right where he’d left him.

Odd that he seemed so sweet when he was passed out like that. Probably the damn chips leaving him in some sort of food coma. Perhaps the warmth and lack of real rest that left Reyes feeling somewhat affectionate. 

“Come on, Pequeño… The storm is over. We should get moving.” Jesse’s eyes blinked open then, stupidly slow and tired, and for only a moment, Gabriel felt a little bad for troubling him. Only a little.

Outside the window the sun was peeking out further over the mass of white hills, reflection painting a vivid scene of the heart of winter through the window. If he wasn’t careful, he could get used to watching McCree wake up, ever in awe of the kid when his mouth was shut by food or sleep.

“Ready to ge us home?”

“S’born ready, Cap… Just. Five more minutes, yeah?”

They were already  _ hours _ late on arrival… What was five more minutes?


End file.
